The Life and Death of Arthur Kirkland
by chibi-unicorn-girl
Summary: This is my story, started February 3rd and finished June 10th. Hello my name is Arthur, I am a 16 year old schizophrenic. I have blonde hair and green eyes. Some interesting things to know about me, I play the guitar, I like writing, I love music and by the time you read this, I will probably be dead.


Hello! Before this story starts, I would just like to note that I decided to use my experience in these areas to write this story so I can go more into the depth about the characters emotions, I see many brilliant stories out there probably similar to this one in so many different fandoms, but not many actually going into the feelings of the character.

All the themes touched upon I have been through myself minus a few, which I have seen others experience instead.

I started writing this story when I was 13, hopefully I will soon finish it.

Hello and welcome to my fiction! Enjoy the ride I'm using this fiction to take a break from my other stories

**Any spelling/grammar/punctuation errors please let me know! Irregular updates for now too.**

**Review too please! Should I continue this story?**

* * *

The Life and death of Arthur Kirkland

This is my story, started February 3rd and finished June 10th.

Hello my name is Arthur, I am a 16 year old schizophrenic. I have blonde hair and green eyes. Some interesting things to know about me, I play the guitar, I like writing, I love music and by the time you read this, I will probably be dead.

* * *

The teacher stood in front of the assembly hall where all the students sat staring at him curiously.

"Sir? Why did you read us that?" The man chuckled in response.

"Why did I read you that? Why? Because I have a story to tell you." He saw the many faces of the students twist into utter disgust and they began to murmur amongst themselves.

"Shut up!" the entire assembly hall quietened, the other teachers sat there, waiting eagerly to hear the story. The man in front of the hall knew they had heard this story a thousand times, but every year they came back to this assembly to hear the story again.

"Shut up brats and let me explain. This story is true. I'm sure you've all had the 'journal' or 'diary' assignment at some point, correct?" The students nodded in response, some twisting their faces, showing the grim memories of the assignment.

"I've been told there's been a rise in bullying these past few months correct?" asked the man, the students did not answer, he saw a few stiffen visibly.

"This is one of the diaries received back from a student, a couple years ago to this exact date."

The students looked confused, but the man continued on.

"This is the journal and story of Arthur Kirkland, like the extract said, I am now going to tell you about the life and death of Arthur Kirkland, and you are all going to shut up and listen."

* * *

The small town of Willowfield resided on the island of Hetalia, just off the coast of Los Angeles. A number of people from a number of different nationalities lived there.

"Arthur! ARTHUR!" The blonde turned his head slightly to see Alfred running towards him, as fast as he could. Quickly, the American dived on his fellow blonde and succeeded in knocking him to the floor.

"Bloody hell Alfred!"

"Hehe~ Hows ya doin Artie?" asked the boy, standing up and holding his hand out for the other to take. Arthur scowled at the hand, but took it nonetheless and let Alfred heave him to his legs.

"Stop butchering the English language Alfred, and I'm fine…"

"ARTIE~ Can you promise me something?" Arthur cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"What?"

"That we will ALWAYS be friends, no matter what?"

"Yes dummy."

"Alright, but you have to pinky swear!" said the other blonde, holding his hand out, his little finger extended. Arthur sighed in annoyance, but held out his hand and connected their little fingers.

"Pinky swear."

"If you break it you have to swallow a thousand needles!"

"Same goes for you dummy!"

"We'll ALWAYS be friends right Artie!"

"Yeah…always…"

* * *

Alfred was the one who made that promise… So why the hell was he chucking bits of his lunch at Arthur? Why are you asking him? How the hell would he know! Arthur turned slightly to see him sitting there, laughing his head off, surrounded by his cronies.

"Hi Arthur, how you liking your lunch?" asked Alfred, before bursting into laughter with the rest of his minions.

"Just fine before you opened your mouth." Replied the boy snappily, he wasn't in the mood. Nope, he wasn't in the mood today. At all.

"Awhhhh, but if I didn't speak to you, who else would? Your imaginary friends?" he asked in a mocking tone. Arthur's face lost its calm expression and it contorted into an angry scowl.

"Why don't you just go fuck yourself Jones?" snapped Arthur, his friends were the only ones that listened to him. People said they weren't real, and he knew they weren't. But they were always there for him.

"Awhhhh, did he upset the little faggot?" Sniggered some Turkish dude in a mask. Pushing his food forward, he'd barely eaten any of it; he stood up and faced the group.

"Seriously? Who calls someone a faggot anymore? Why don't you lot just go piss off and leave me alone? What the fuck did I do too you?"

"….We know you perv on us in the chang-"

"Oh for Christ sake, I'm never in P.E so how the HELL can I perv on you? And for that matter WHY would I perv on you?" And with that Arthur stormed from the cafeteria. His stomach rumbled in protest but he carried on.

Why did people treat him this way? He never had a problem back in his old school in England, where he went to school everyone treated him as a friend. Why were Americans so fucking homophobic? Arthur didn't think his sexuality would be such a problem in today's society, but no, some people still singled him out as the school's pariah.

Sighing, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and made his way to his next lesson. English, one of the only lessons Arthur actually bothered to turn up to. If there was one thing Arthur prided in himself, it was his skills with the English language. He had been told many times that the words he wrote were wonderful. It also helped that he liked the teacher. Mr Scot, funny enough, was a red-headed Scottish man who stunk of smoke but was awfully kind to anyone who payed attention in his class.

Before heading to the lesson though, Arthur decided to grab his sketchbook from his locker, and as he did a note fell out. He sighed again, wondering if he should even bother reading it. They were all the same anyway. It would be a nice change if they actually said something creative rather than the usual crap the notes read. Grabbing his sketchbook and pencil case, he carefully placed them in his bag before slamming his locker shut. Leaving the message with its unread content on the floor.

His head held high, he'd be damned if he let them bullies think they'd gotten to him. He sat in his usual spot at the back of the class, and pulled out his sketch book. Half an hour of lunch still remained, which meant he had half an hour of peace.

Mr Scot was used to Arthur coming in at lunch times, so even if he was out, he left the door open so the blonde teen could let himself in.

Images of what to draw filled his head, swirling around like a typhoon. What could he draw? What should he draw? He settled on drawing an angel, its legs were tucked into its chest and its head was resting on its arms. A pair of very simple and small un-detailed wings were drawn on its back. A single circle drawn above its head. In the background, angels with more beautiful wings surrounded the angel with the smaller wings. Pointing at the angel, singling it out. There were no details on the faces of these angels.

Loneliness, it's a funny thing. It usually has two affects on a person, it can make them cold and distant, or it can make them clingy and always wanting to be around people. Many people fear the dark, death or even spiders. But Arthur feared being alone. Truly alone.

* * *

Screeches suddenly echoed throughout the entire school, the students groaned as they realised it was the bell signalling that the next lesson was beginning. Students filed into the classroom slowly, Arthur quickly shoved the sketchbook into his bag and pulled out his English work book.

The usual sneering faces of the usual dickheads glared at Arthur before sitting down. The door slammed closed and everyone turned to see the tired face of the grinning Mr Scot.

"Now listen up Brats." This was why Arthur liked Mr Scot.

"Oh wait look who just decided to turn up after a year and a bit of being off, Gilbert Beilschmidt get your sorry arse in here."

The door opened again and a white haired boy with ruby coloured eyes strutted in. Arthur looked the boy up and down, his uniform pants were a little baggy and tucked into a pair of black military lace up boots. His shirt collar was unbuttoned and his tie loose, while a red jacket hung desperately onto his shoulders. The most interesting thing, in Arthur's opinion, was the black iron cross that hung around the boy's neck, resting on his tie. It looked pretty old.

"I am the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt and for now you all suck." No one knew how to reply to that, they were shocked that the albino had returned.

"And you will be sucking my boots clean if you do not sit the hell down." Gilbert shrugged and gave Arthur a lopsided grin before bouncing over to him and sitting at the back, his feet on the desk.

"You have some explaining to do Gilbert."

"I know Artie… But it's private. I'd rather not talk about it here okay?" Arthur's emerald eyes looked straight onto Gilbert's ruby ones. Worry and fear was held in them, something that surprised the blonde immensely.

"Okay." And before anything else could be said, Mr Scot decided to start teaching again.

"Today brats, I have an assignment that your whole report for the end of the year will depend on." Everyone sat up a little straighter, the red-haired man grinned, glad he caught their attention. From under his desk he pulled up a big cardboard box and let it drop onto his desk with a heavy _thunk_. The people in the front row winced a little.

"This is known as the journal or diary assignment, basically, I give you a book and you record whatever the hell you want it." A crooked grin made its way onto Mr Scot's face.

"Pft! That sounds so girly!" said Francis, running a hand through his blonde locks.

"Then you should have no problems completing it _Franny."_ Mocked the red head, Francis blushed slightly and stuttered something but the teacher waved him off and continued.

"Basically record your day and feelings or whatever you want, as long it's personal to you. I will be the only one reading it along with an examiner maybe, and I will _not_ judge you on whatever you write in it." A student raised their hand.

"But sir… How can you judge us on what we write? It'll all be different, how will you know what we write is true and not just a bunch of crap?"

"I don't care what you write; as long as it'll stop me from falling asleep I could give two shi-Fresh Bananas." The students stared at him like he was weird, but then again he was. From the back Arthur and Gilbert smiled, they had a feeling they might enjoy this.

"An examiner sir?"

"Yes, this is part of your coursework for your personal writing task; it's forty percent of your final grade. So make it good, it's easy to get an A on this. Now I'm going to hand out notebooks, and yes they're all different colours and patterns and whatever. And don't ask for a different one, 'cause I have exactly the right amount for the class."

Quickly, Mr Scot tossed the note books to the children.

Gilbert was surprised by the pattern on his notebook, it was a bright yellow colour and on it was an upside down orange triangle and two black dots. It took him a minute to realise that the notebook looked like his own Gilbird. The book's inside layout was also very different, inside his 'diary' there was a bigger space between the lines, with small spaces to draw things and places to slot things in. Like letters or anything like that.

Arthur was surprised at his as own aswell; the cover was blank and covered with the stuff people use for canvases. The inside had more space for writing and less space for drawing, and a few places to put things in.

"Hey Mr Scotty! Why'd ya get me one? No one knew I was coming back!" asked Gilbert, well, more like stated. The red haired man shot a toothy grin at the albino and turned back to his work.

"A good teacher is prepared; an excellent teacher is extremely prepared. A nosy teacher will be prepared because they're nosy." Gilbert didn't know how to reply.

"So basically, fill in those journals as homework to be handed in at the end of the school year. There will be no other homework until then." Cheers echoed throughout the classroom.

"Maybe." Silence fell.

"Now, this is gonna basically a free lesson to do whatever with your journals. Now work away my minions." And Mr Scot turned back to his computer and began frantically typing away.

The rest of the class passed with the students chatting and doodling and doing whatever they wanted.

"Come on Artie admit that I'm awesome." Arthur glared at the albino.

"When I'm dead."

"Awhhhh Artie!" The bell rang loud and clear, signalling them for their next class. Everyone quickly shuffled out the room, chatting and laughing. Arthur and Gilbert were the last ones out. They didn't like getting crushed in the corridors.

The two walked side by side in a comfortable silence until

"What lesson do ya have now"? Asked Gilbert, the blonde glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and noticed that the albino's eyes were darting around the corridors and he was wringing his hands a little. Something was definitely up.

"Nothing important."

"…Want to go to the roof?"

"Yeah, but we better go now before the teachers come looking for us."And with that the two dashed up to the roof, quickly avoiding any teachers who may be wandering the corridors.

* * *

The wind gently ruffled the teen's hair and caressed them in a motherly manner; they had always felt at peace here on the roof. Gilbert loved it because he could see everything from up here, nothing was hidden away, no secrets were kept and it was peaceful. Arthur loved it for a very different reason. If life got too much for the teen, which it did sometimes, he would climb over the railing and sit on the very edge of the roof. Knowing he had the decision whether to stand up and live or jump and die. It was peaceful.

The two teens sat with their backs against the railings, staring at the empty roof in front of them, the wind whipping through their hair while the sun seemed to hide behind the clouds, giving the teens some time to not need a reason to be happy.

Arthur didn't start a conversation; they sat there in a comfortable silence, the blonde patiently waiting for Gilbert to say what he wanted too. But only when he was ready.

"Hey Arthur." The blonde turned his face to him.

"Yeah?"

"… You still take your medication?" Arthur immediately turned his head away and looked straight up at the sky.

"Yeah… But it's…."

"It's what?" Gilbert's concern spiked immediately as he took in the look on Arthur's face.

"They're upping my medication is all… But I don't think it'll work. I can still see them." Silence lay thick over the two.

"Have you told the doctors?"

"Yes. That's why their giving me more but… I don't think it's going to work. I don't hear them anymore at least. I think its cause I've been a bit stressed lately… With school y'know and stuff."

The silence continued. Arthur was still waiting for what Gilbert really wanted to say. He was a patient man.

"I had cancer." Silence covered the two for a few moments, moments which turned to minutes.

"…What?" Arthur's shocked emerald eyes turned to Gilbert, whose snowy white hair was covering his eyes as his head was lowered towards the ground.

"More specifically Leukaemia, even more specific Acute Promyelocytic Leukaemia. I… I was always at risk of getting cancer or something like that, but I always thought it would've been skin cancer or something." Arthur closed his eyes tight, keeping the tears locked tightly away.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gilbert chuckled, though there was no humour in his voice, he looked straight up to the sky, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Because if I happened to die you would all just think that I had left… Then no one would have to be sad and mourn me." The silence returned.

"You idiot." Arthur placed one arm over Gilbert's shoulder, giving him a one armed hug.

"I know. I know."

"You're going to have to explain the rest of it to me now."

"Well… I noticed that my bones and muscles and stuff was starting to ache, even when I hadn't done P.E which I found weird 'cause I'm really good at sports. Heck I'm a sports captain." Arthur briefly recalled the white haired teen moaning about his aching body a while back, a little before he disappeared.

"And I was always feeling tired, and I was losing my breath really easy and getting fevers. So I told Old man Fritz and he immediately took me to the doctor… And after some tests and shit they explained I had APL… that's the type of Leukaemia I had. Old Fritz told my dad instantly and I told him not to let anyone know… So my dad went with the idea that I just up'd and left while Fritz took me back to east Germany where I got treatment… Just in case I did die, I wanted to die in Germany."

Gilbert took a deep breath.

"Luckily it was in its early stages… and with a lot of chemo I was fine. But I took the year and a half off just to be sure. Apl has a 90% survivor's rate so I had a good chance, but with me being an albino there were some concerns." He turned to Arthur.

"I'm really sorry-"

"Don't apologize you idiot! You're the one who had cancer but god Dammit Gilbert, if you ever get seriously ill again and you do not tell me I will kick your arse a million times then tie you to a stick and leave you there." The boy let out a laugh and Arthur smiled a tiny bit.

"I promise."

"Good, because you're like my brother Gilbert, it killed me not having you here." Gilbert's face fell dark for a moment and it took Arthur a few minutes to understand, his features softened.

"Apart from Fritz and your dad… I'm the only one who knows…"

"I didn't want Ludwig to worry about me… I would just wreck everything he worked towards and he would be worried about me and would have wanted to come with me to Germany… But, damm Arthur you've seen his grades he could be at Oxford or something."

"You really care about him."

"…But he's never gonna forgive me. But that's good, 'cause that means he can continue in life without worrying about his fuck up brother." His face lightened. "Hey Arthur… What happened to Elizaveta and Roderich?" Arthur chuckled.

"They broke up, so yes Gilbert you might have a chance with Eli-" Gilbert pumped one fist into the air.

"Awesome! Now, you're going to have to get me caught up with all the latest crap that's been happening in my absence." He said, giving Arthur a toothy grin.

"My pleasure."

* * *

By the time Gilbert and Arthur had caught up with all the drama that had been happening at school, the bell rang signalling that the day had ended. The two walked out of school together, laughing and talking about some stupid drama.

Gilbert made his way home while Arthur walked to his own house, it wasn't that far away from the school anyway. Finally, he reached his small flat and flung open the door and shut it behind him. Smiling he dropped onto the sofa, pulling out a pillow and covering his eyes with it.

Today had been… stressful. Alfred and his minions and then Gilbert's revelation. But he was so happy that the albino was back. Gilbert was his one true friend.

Arthur's flat was small and cramped, but tidy. In the sitting room was literally a small TV, a sofa, two bookcases and a coffee table. An opened archway led to the simple and basic kitchen, and back into the tiny hallway there were another two doors leading to a bathroom and his bedroom.

His bedroom was his favourite room, as many teenagers favoured their bedroom. It had bright white walls and basic furniture. The walls were decorated with posters, the desk was covered in pencils and sketchbooks, and his bed was neatly made.

Sitting up Arthur grabbed his discarded bag on the floor and opened it, taking out the journal Mr Scot had given him. Pulling out a pencil case, he took a pen and began to start his assignment.

* * *

_February 3__rd_

_Hello…_

_Or something._

_My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I'm 15 years old. I live in the small town of Willowfield on the island Hetalia. Some interesting things to know about me are:_

_. I'm a natural blonde_

_. I live alone_

_.I had a family, but they left me here._

_.I'm a schizophrenic_

_I don't think I have to say much more, since you already know a lot about me Mr Scot, but I will anyway. I was born in England and moved to Hetalia when I was eight with my siblings; we lived happily til I was thirteen or something. My father wasn't the nicest man alive, and finally one day my mother had had enough. She took my brothers and left. I don't know why she left me; she mustn't have cared about me as much as my brothers or something._

_But anyway, after that my father left too. Paying for my house and sending money through on a bank card he gave me. I haven't seen him in years. I get a visit from a social worker twice a week to check up on my, cause the laws of Hetalia are different from other countries, and because of my schizophrenia. Basically she checks I've been taking my medication, and since they'd had no problems with me not taking it before they trust me._

_Now, onto my schizophrenia. Currently, I only have hallucinations, illusions and behavioural/ emotional changes as the doctor calls it. It isn't a huge part of my life, it used to be but now I can take drugs and control them. It took the doctors a very long time to diagnose me, since my symptoms started showing up when I was about 7 maybe 8 and it's very uncommon for the symptoms to show in people under the age of 16. So basically every day I take drugs to suppress a part of myself._

_Fanfuckingtastic._

_But at least it keeps me normal by society's standards right?_

_Next year, I'm on my way to college. I'm actually really excited about this, is that sad? I can finally get away from all this and just leave! Leave all those bastards behind! Kinda anyway. I was planning on taking A-level Classics (Basically ancient history), A-level Fine Art, A-level literature and Government and politics. Though, my choice of college is considering letting me study a fifth subject. Though I'm not sure I want to do that since you're only meant to do about three/four._

_Gilbert Beilschmidt is my best friend and has been for many years now, how we met? That's a secret between brothers. I used to be best friends with Alfred too…. But that's more ancient history. I would still, like to find out what I did wrong though, for our friendship to suddenly just be gone like that._

_Anyway that is a short introduction about me; I hoped you enjoy reading whoever you are._

Arthur closed his book, deciding that that was enough for one day.


End file.
